Epitaph of Twilight
by TearsOfARose
Summary: the Epitaph of Twilight, I thought it would be nice to be able to read the whole thing. Enjoy!


Once their magic land did glow

With vagrant, ever-present light:

When sprites would play in flowing fields,

The twilight shining in their wings

As they swam through silky seas of mist,

Before the coming of the Wave.

Untouched by fear or pain they lived

Each minute with the utmost joy,

Till the cursed Wave did rise

Tearing through the dusky skies;

Consuming light and dark in kind

And leaving none to mourn behind.

So to the East the sprites did flee

Though burdened by the tragedy,

The truth was all too plain to see:

One by one their kind would fall

Beneath the torrent of the Wave

If none could stand before its gaze

And somehow fill that endless void.

King of light and queen of dark,

Apeiron and Helba knew of one

Who might defeat the Wave:

A mythic beast long said to sleep

'Neath the edge of the world's end

Sheathed by the Wavering Peninsula,

A creature of the greatest might,

The sacred dragon of twilight.

Thus Queen Helba chose Bith the Black,

Her strongest sprite, to join the quest;

While Apeiron sent Fili the White

To journey with them in his stead,

For Bith and Helba thought it best

That the king remain behind to rule

And calm the ever-spreading dread

Ere the dragon might appear.

So as the three prepared to ride

Through the aqua gate of Mac Anu

A fourth did come by fate's command:

One part human, one part sprite,

Alone for all his nameless might,

He fell in stride with Helba's steed

As she wordlessly agreed,

His will was worthy of their cause.

Through the Fatel Bog they sped

As onyx dust cloaked each in turn

From which arose a blinding pall,

A living shadow born to crawl

Betwixt reality and mind,

Till death, within them, was enshrined:

Each was shown their comrades slain;

Illusions of Skeith's mortal game.

Fili wept and knelt to pray,

While Bith did halt in stunned dismay

Ere turning back upon the path,

Desires crushed by failure's wrath.

The halfling tore about the swamp

Searching for the fount of death

Whose noxious fog had claimed the lives

Of those who'd stand against the Wave.

Alone the dark queen Helba rode

Remorseless through the baneful mire,

Cursing the Wave as she progressed

Bent solely on her noble quest,

And as she went the darkness lifted

Till she found her friends still living,

Mounted on their stagnant steeds

As if enchanted by some dream.

Calling forth an ancient rune,

The queen dispelled the evil bind;

Thus Skeith's hold was undermined

And as he slowly evanesced

Each realized they'd been possessed

While Helba foretold a prophecy

Of eight heralds with demons blood,

Eight phases of the Cursed Wave.

As the boggy mud grew dry

Gyle Mountain rose before them,

A deadly oft avoided peak;

The swiftest route to Dun Loireag;

For eons standing as a god

O'er looking men with its facade

While hiding at its center true,

A molten pit of which none knew.

As they neared the summit's height

Something waited midst their course:

A Chimera of the greatest size

With sleight blue malefic eyes

Exuding lust for their demise;

Then two, then four, then all around

The aberrations capped the ground,

Till hundreds stood in perfect stillness.

Charging forth as one they came

With rumbling fury at the four,

Who held a circle back to back,

Slaying beasts as they attacked;

Though as the horrors met their deaths,

Each vanished with its dying breath,

Unfleshly as a wayward thought

But for the bloody wounds they wrought.

Thus the ceaseless battle waged:

As each fiend fell another came

Till Bith cried out in dire need,

A lone chimera must be real;

The others conjured effigies;

Doppelgangers born to please

Their lord and master as slaves,

Incarnations of the Wave.

Deeming true the dark knight's words,

Fili beseeched her allies three

For time to let her mind's eye see;

Hence minutes passed as Fili prayed

Ere she raised her longbow high

And let a single arrow fly

Piercing clouds upon the sky

As though the shaft were blessed by god.

Falling with a feather's grace

The missile knew whom to embrace,

And like a tear from heaven shed

Smote its wrath on the demon's head,

Laying to waste the vile horde;

As Innis' power left the peak

Six words of spite he cruelly gave:

You shall never stop the Wave.

Past the mount they traveled far

Through Dun Loireag the highland town

Till they reached the woods of Breade

Where lay a mark for all to heed:

A sphere enclosed by myriad lines,

One of many travelers' signs

Known by the halfling doubtlessly:

A labyrinth confronts beyond.

Foraging down countless paths,

Each branch producing two alike;

They hastened forth without event

Till Helba sensed a foul intent,

And turning, to her wonder found

A creature posing as a man,

Exquisite in his nakedness;

A mold no human could possess.

With arms spread wide the demon smiled

And Helba watched as though beguiled

While fallen twigs grew into trees,

Forming fast a wooden shield

Unyielding to the fiercest blow;

Then shrieks about the forest rang

As any beast with claw or fang

Descended on the narrow trail.

Besieged by creatures of the wood

They battled 'gainst undying foes:

Each pair slain would recompose,

Birthing four at instant pace

As Magus watched with grinning glee,

Entombed within his wall of trees

Which faster grew then could be hewn;

A trait which spelled the heroes' doom.

Thus the exalting onslaught went

Till Nameless conceived a final hope,

And drawing out a flask of spirits

Hurled it at the barricade,

Then blazed a spark with blade on blade

Setting to light a rampant fire;

A majestic funeral pyre

Felling the wall atop its maker.

Soon Breade was but a memory

O'ershadowed by the floral city:

Carmina Gadelica by name,

Of gentile and aesthetic fame;

Though swiftly too it fell behind

As Moyra Canyon darkly loomed,

Foreboding in its desolation

Ere the crossing had begun.

Hours aft the presaged end

Of that bleak and lengthy trek,

Moyra's cliffs still stood aside,

Mocking each benumbing stride;

Till Bith remarked in somber phrase

They'd passed the same formations thrice,

Spun by some malign device

So deftly one might never know.

Having spake his solemn fear

A haunting voice then prophesied:

Your graveyard shall this chasm be

For here you will remain with me;

Helpless as the Wave consumes

Everything you've ever known,

Leaving naught behind but bone

And fading whispers on the wind.

Searching for escape in vain

They rode the passage once again;

But Fidchell's brazen promise held:

Nowhere could the cliffs be scaled,

And though their course did never veer

While racing through the corridor,

They came to camp just as before;

Overcome by nauseous dread.

Dispel charms proved fruitless too;

Till Bith called for womanly aid,

Requesting they enchant his blade;

Then slowly marching down the path

For hours when he sensed at last

The entrapping portal's edge;

Driving hard his sword to earth,

Razing Fidchell's sorcery.

Long past the crucible of Moyra,

They sheltered in a citadel:

Fort Ouph, so said its denizens

Where mind and body could be cleansed

Of any hardships one endured

Ere disembarking further north

Over the barren Veishus Plain,

Where most who crossed it would remain.

The horses thrived on unmarked land,

Rejoicing in those countless miles

Till suddenly in concert halting

As ebon vapours coalesced

At Gorre's inhuman behest,

Forging whole his grotesque form:

A tetra-legged mass of hate

Obscured midst a foul haze.

With putrid limbs the demon lashed;

Immense weight thrown behind each strike:

Through both guard and shield alike

The blows did wound unless evaded;

While each assault the heroes launched

Was somehow violently repelled:

Sheathed in armour craft of malice

The creature stood immune to challenge.

Battling with their utmost might

Each soon grew weary from the fight,

When Fili grazed the demon's hide

And felt its overwhelming sadness;

No longer could abhorrence lie

Within her for the wretched fiend:

T'was but a puppet of the Wave

Devised to delve for each a grave.

As pity laced her heavy heart,

Fili strode towards the beast

Whose crushing limbs were now repulsed

Ere they touched her ivory skin;

When came she nigh with rapier drawn

A single thrust did slay its brawn,

For mercy guided Fili's blade

Where scorn could never penetrate.

In time they reached Lia Fail,

Exhausted to the breaking point

Where healers did their wounds anoint

While speaking of the land beyond:

Knemisys was the desert's name;

Devoid of life's too fragile flame,

Though offering hope ever so slight:

The journey's end was now in sight.

Once their strength had been regained

A woman of unmatched beauty came;

And standing in the village square

With naught to clothe but flowing hair,

She beckoned with an outstretched hand

As her siren song did ring

Throughout the quiet frontier town,

Calling both the knight and halfling.

Doused by some seducing force

Helba charged to find the source,

But like Fili arrived too late:

Bith and Nameless stood entranced

By Macha's all-enticing spell

With which she did their blades compel

To set upon the women with

Whom they'd journeyed for so long.

Knowing well the quest would fail

If any were to perish here,

They could but dodge each fierce attack,

Unwilling to counter back;

Neither could Macha be harmed:

Protected by her servants two

No assault could carry through;

Such was the witchcraft's passion.

In desperation Helba cast

A seldom sober sorcery:

The banshee's cry for moments wailed,

Annulling the demon's hymn

And sealing Macha's fate therein;

For that lone unhindered instant

Was all the dark queen needed

To cut the bare seductress down.

So bidding to the town farewell

They forged ahead through Knemisys;

Uncrossed by any to return:

The arid distance was too great,

Yet they went without debate

To find whatever might await,

Knowing one predestined fact:

They'd not last the journey back.

Past untold dunes the horses ran

Till any sense of time was gone

And each grew jadedly withdrawn,

When, rising from the sands ahead

A small oasis lay outspread;

Water sparkling through the heat

Beneath a single godsent tree

Worth tenfold its weight in gold.

First they drank as ne'er before

Upon the tiny desert shore,

But found in frantic disarray

Just two fruits about the tree;

Soon both Queen and Halfling claimed

Their sex deserved the greater share,

While Fili spoke with fixed glare:

Equal parts were truly fair.

Bith alone did not take part

For something gnawed upon his heart;

Coming clear as swords were drawn

When words alone would not suffice;

Plunging through bark and wood his axe,

A shriek of fury tamed the fight

As the haven left their eyes;

Thus Tarvos met his swift demise

Presently the thirst awoke

As the demon's magic broke,

But soon their spirits soared anew:

Sand gave way to fluid ground,

A joyous omen that they'd found

The Wavering Peninsula;

Awash with instability

Such as none had ever seen.

Colours shimmered 'round the cape,

Blending aimlessly together

While hoof-beats danced about the land

Like echoes of a mindless band;

But all too soon this chaos paled

In contrast to the final phase:

Before the Stone of Destiny

Corbenik stood in mockery.

Titanic was his human form;

Eyes alight with vicious scorn

As he advanced with roaring strides

And spoke in truly humbling voice:

You've journeyed far and suffered much

To perish by my flawless touch;

For as you now shall plainly see,

No sprite exists to stand against me.

Ere the final word had died

A pulse erupted from his hand

Which all but one could not withstand:

Nameless stood in disbelief

As Helba, Bith, and Fili fell

Unconscious to the shifting earth;

Saved by halfling blood alone,

He'd fight this demon on his own.

Enraged that any dared resist,

Corbenik charged into the duel

With staggering ferocity

Bent towards his enemy

Who spun ever-elusively

Away from each leaden blow,

Requiting with his lustrous blades

Like some pernicious serenade.

Despite the halfling's surest strike

Corbenik offered no respite,

For even as his steel drew blood

The lesion seamlessly would heal,

Till a voice in him confided:

Your weapons cannot harm this fiend;

Fight with those attached to life

To break his immortality.

Unequalled was the dark queen's verve,

So taking up her royal sword

And yearning for true faith's reward;

Nameless vaulted o'er his foe,

Driving the blade through flesh below

And landing on the other side

As the demon fell beside,

Both motionless for a time.

Soon burning with hellish fire

The fiend rose in satanic form

As the Halfling heard once more:

A weapon in accord with death

Will cleave this monster's dying breath;

Thus endowed with Bith's great axe

He snuffed Corbenik's second life;

Though doubt within him now grew rife.

From ash the demon rose again,

Empowered by the pure heart

And soaring high with angel's wings

As Nameless brandished Fili's bow,

Firing volleys at each chance

Till the fiend could fly no more,

And beaten to its very core,

Fell to earth one final time.

Once the sprites had reawakened

The voice resounded in their minds:

You have my sincerest praises

For vanquishing the Wave's eight phases,

Each imbued with twisted souls

Collected by their maker;

Each a brutal incarnation

Embodying the psyche.

Skeith, The Terror of Death;

Composed of deepest mortal fear

His morbid whispers silence cheer;

Innis, The Mirage of Deceit;

Cloaked within a deadly guise,

One must see truth amidst his lies;

Magus, The Propagator,

In his presence species' thrive,

Ever able to survive;

Fidchell, The Prophet;

Predicating hopeless fate

To crush your will beneath its weight;

Gorre, The Machination;

Enrobed by vicious cruelty,

Immune to all but sympathy;

Macha, The Temptress;

Manifesting love and lust

To charm even the most robust;

Tarvos, The Avenger;

Envy and vengeance are the tools

With which he transforms men to fools;

And Corbenik, The Rebirth;

First compelled by all life's riches

Then drawn towards the reaper's scythe

Before ascending to the skies

On gusts of immaculate intent.

When this world was barely born

The Wave and I did battle here

For eons at same frontier,

Clashing once with utmost strength:

Our bodies spread across the land

Seeding all that now exists;

Substance did my form provide,

And he the spirit held inside.

I've waited for your coming since;

A specter sealed beneath this stone

Without a shape to call my own;

Thus I must entreat you all

To pay this last, most grievous cost:

Return to me what I have lost

That I might give my life to save

Those remaining from the Wave.

Each laid their hands upon the stone,

Vanishing as the dragon rose

In magnificent repose;

Feeding off his former tomb

Now serving as a holy womb;

The peninsula soon faded too:

Among the saddest kinds of loss,

Gone ere it could be forgotten.

In a breath the dragon flew

Back to besieged Mac Anu,

Where all the mages of the land

Had trenched their only stand

At the battered aqua gate

To stay the Wave in fervent hope

That the quest would yet succeed,

As Apeiron had once decreed.

Streaming forth in sheer delight,

The Twilight Dragon met the Wave;

Twirling 'round his adversary

Till inextricably entwined

They momently shone as one,

Like a swiftly dying sun

Whose embers flare with glory bright

Before it's taken by the night.

When the aura dissipated,

Wave and Dragon both were gone,

Though joy came not to Apeiron;

He knew this victory's true price;

The last and greatest sacrifice

Which Helba and her friends had made

At land's end so far away

For every voice that now did cheer.

Sprites have long since lost their wings

As they did their innocence,

The timeless dusk in which they lived,

And perhaps of all the saddest;

Of Helba and her servant Bith,

Of Fili and the Halfling too,

No memories remain but this:

Unknow where the Cursed Wave was born

After the stars doth cross the heavens

The sky in the East doth darken

And air doth fills with mourning.

From the chosen land beyond the forest,

A sign of the Wave is: Skeith, the Shadow of Death.

to drown all that stands.

Mirage of Deceit, Innis,

Betray all with the flawed image,

and did aid the Wave.

And by the Power of Magus,

a drop from the Wave doth reach the heavens,

and creates a new Wave.

With the Wave, Fidchell,

the power to tell the dark future,

hope darkens, sadness and dispair rule.

Gorre schemes the Pinnacle, and escape non can.

Tarvos still remains with more cruelty to punish and destroy.

And with the turbulent destruction after the Wave.

Only a void remains.

From deep within the void arrives Corbenik.

Yet to return, the shadowed one.

Who quests foe the Twilight Dragon

Rumbles the Dark Hearth,

And Helba, Queen of the Dark, has raised finally her army.

Apeiron, King of Light, beckins...

At the base of the rainbow they meet.

Against the abominable "Wave," together they fight.

Alba's lake boils.

Light's great tree doth fall.

Power- all now to droplets turned in the temple of Arche Koeln.

Returns to nothing, this world of shadowless ones.

Never to return, the shadowless one.

Who quests for the Twilight Dragon.

The wife buffeted by "Waves" turns her back on the field.

The daughter that waited for the shadows repeated,

"For sure... For sure I can go home."

But the girl did not know...

The truth that waited her at the end of the journey

The eternal mourning of her land.

In the place of the calamitous, only life was known.

After the circling stars

When the eastern dark void, the air full of dispair

In the depths of the divided forest, in the land of Karma,

Riding fast on the path is Skeith

Bearing death's shadow, it eliminates all that seek to thwart it.

The Confusing Mirage, Innis

Decevies those that see it with illusions, rescues the waves

The wave soaring high, when its head is smashed,

A new wave will emerge

To become Mangus's power.

When questioning the wave,

Hope's light will be lost when he speaks of the dark future of where

sorrow and resignation reign.

Using Fiddlehiem's Technique

When engulfed by the Waves of Calamity, Gorre will plan

The sweet snare of conciliation is Macha

The Waves, an exceeding maelstrom

Nothing can escape

When you think you have escaped, Tarvos exists

To destroy those with his exceeding cruelty

Upon violent requital, only to remain is the void, the vacant darkness

is the harbinger that Corbenik is to appear.

**0**


End file.
